


Sands of Time

by morbidlypicturesque



Category: The Mummy (1999), The Mummy Returns (2001), The Mummy Series, The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor (2008)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Ancient Egypt, Ancient Egyptian Literature & Mythology, Ancient History, Archaeology, Egyptology, Eventual Romance, F/M, Family Bonding, Historical References, Medjai - Freeform, Reincarnation, brooke shields as alexandria carnahan, cairo, slight AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-01-30 16:57:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21431614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morbidlypicturesque/pseuds/morbidlypicturesque
Summary: "A family holiday you said, Evie!""Well it was supposed to be, I'm sorry-""Oh I'm not complaining. Let''s kick some undead arse!"when alexandria carnahan accepted her sister's invitation to trade her place as a museum curator in london for an exciting summer excavation in cairo she did not intend to be drawn into a battle against a bloodthirsty mummy out for revenge or rick o'connells nile blue eyes
Relationships: Rick O'Connell/Original Character(s), Rick O'Connell/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	1. SANDS OF TIME

*:･ﾟ☥･ﾟ:*

—_ imagine if we could unlock the secrets within the dust_

_— thousands of years ago Egypt was dubbed the beginning and the end of all things  
_

_— perhaps they were right all along  
_

*:･ﾟ☥･ﾟ:*

_brooke shields as_

**ALEXANDRIA CARNAHAN**

*:･ﾟ☥･ﾟ:*

**DISCLAIMER**

𝘪 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 '𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘺' 𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘦

𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘢 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘩𝘢𝘯 - 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺  
  
  


*:･ﾟ☥･ﾟ:*


	2. 0. overture

**OVERTURE**

**1290 BC, THEBES**

Grains of sand, moved by the harsh evening winds, caress the faces of the inhabitants of Thebes. The mighty capitol of the New Kingdom went by another name among its people; _The City of the Living _was the jewel in the crown of Pharaoh Seti I. A vast display of his power and military prowess, seen on every newly erect temple, obelisk or statue, guaranteed a legacy for centuries to come.

While the Pharaoh commands the living, it is believed the High Priest of Osiris keeps the Dead. High Priest Imhotep, a man of the Gods and a dear advisor of the Pharaoh.

And, as of late, a _traitor _of the worst kind.

Drinking in the last rays of the setting sun over the city, Imhotep stood on the balcony of the royal palace, eyes fixed on the Pharaoh's chariot disappearing in the distance. A relieved sigh crossed his lips. They were free, for the night.  
  


No man could ever quench the flame of love that had sparked between Imhotep and Anck-Su-Namun, the Pharaoh's mistress and future wife.

_The kind of love for which one was willing to gamble with their life._

A commotion disrupts the passionate embrace of the two lovers. The doors burst open, Pharaoh Seti emerging from the dark. He eyes warily the priests of Osiris guarding the door, sensing the oddity of the situation.

Striding forward he throws open the curtains to Anck-Su-Namun's chambers, only to find the woman herself standing there, waiting, a seductive smile on her lips in hopes of subduing the Pharaoh's temper. Rage bursts from the Pharaoh's eyes as he notices the smudged paint on her arm, a proof of her infidelity.

"Who has touched you?!"

A flurry of actions- Imhotep rips Seti's sword from his scabbard. It gives Anck-Su-Namun enough time to lift her dagger and plunge it into pharaoh's back. A strangled gasp leaves the dying Pharaoh's lips, dimming light in his eyes begging the two people he cared for for an explanation.

_The kind of love for which one was willing to murder their Pharaoh for._

Banging on the doors. There is no escape, they realize, and it's only a matter of time before _The Mumia _\- the pharaoh's guards - come to condemn the culprit of the pharaoh's demise. The priests of Osiris grab Imhotep, pulling him towards exit, deaf to his protests.

"You must go. Save yourself. Only you can resurrect me." She whispers with such conviction he feels his heart tearing in two. With one last glance he lets himself be escorted by his priests. The sound of a sword piercing Anck-Su-Namun's flesh is the one that would haunt him for ages to come.

It was a fortune in misfortune that he, as a High Priest of Osiris, had the duty of cursing Anck-Su-Namun's body - a punishment reserved for murderers, promising an infernal afterlife to the condemned.

Her organs removed into the sacred canopic jars, Imhotep read the incantations from The Book of The Living which held sacred spells meant to send the evil dead on a journey into the dark underworld.

The slaves and the soldier accompanying them were slain under the watchful eye of Imhotep and the Mumia, so no unholy person may ever know the exact location of the burial site.

However, once the _Mumia_ disappeared behind the sandy dunes of the desert, the priests of Imhotep unearthed Anck-Su-Namun's cursed body once again. Racing across the desert, Imhotep had only one location in mind.

_Hamunaptra_, known as The City of Dead, held a book far to dangerous for it to ever be used. The Book of the Dead contained incantations that could bring a body back to life, a most unholy thing. And just the thing Imhotep was looking for.

_The kind of love for which one was willing to defy the Gods themselves._

In the unearthly temple of death, chanting priests circled the mistress's_,_ their heads rocking back and forth in delirium. Their throaty hums combine with Imhotep's infernal incantations. A mist rises from a swirling pond, edging closer to the altar holding the body.

A heart beat sounds from one of the canopic jars. Anck-Su-Namun's eyes fly open. As the chanting reaches a crescendo, Imhotep lifts a sacrificial knife above her breast _\- BANG!_

_The Mumia _burst into the chamber, startling the priests and disrupting the ritual. The panicked priests snap back from their daze, scrambling to their feet, trying to escape the scimtars of the black-robed executioners. This time, they have no mercy.

Tongues are cut out with hot pincers, burning rods used to extract the brains of living priests of Imhotep. Anguished screams of men mummified alive bounce off the walls of the embalming room. Imhotep can only watch and listen in terror.

The High Priest was condemned to the worst fate of all, the worst ever inflicted upon any man.

_The Hom-Dai curse. _

Once they cut out his tongue, they wrap him in linen bandage_s. _He squirms, uselessly, as they place him in the stone sarcophagus.

Imhotep can only look up in terror as the embalmer empties a bucket over his immobilized body. Dozens of scarabs, those flesh eating beetles, scurry over his convulsing body. His silent, agonized scream only allows them to crawl into his tongueless mouth.

It was believed, by eating the sacred scarabs, he would be cursed to stay alive forever. And by eating him, they were cursed just the same.

_The Mumia_ would never allow him to be released from his ungodly prison, for it was known he would arise a walking disease, a plague upon mankind, only to bring death and destruction upon the land.

_The kind of love for which one was willing to wait for the moment of vengeance. _

A vengeance so dreadful, powered with the rage of to rain hellfire on all that stood between them.

Hamunaptra vanished beneath the sands, the statues of the temple decaying under the brunt of time and the unforgiving desert.

The key to Imhotep's tomb laid forgotten, the City of Death becoming a story to scare the children with, a myth among the historians and treasure hunters alike.

That is, until it wasn't.

And that is where our story begins.  
  


*:･ﾟ☥･ﾟ:*


	3. i. the land of ancestors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which Alexandria Carnahan returns to the land of her forefathers

* * *

**i. the land of ancestors**

* * *

𝟷𝟿𝟸𝟼**. **𝙲𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚘**, **𝙴𝚐𝚢𝚙𝚝

* * *

During her younger years, Alexandria Carnahan had been convinced her parents hated her.

It was not because of the common reasons that might to come to ones mind, like being the youngest of her siblings. Nor was it for the lack of attention they received from their parents - a true misfortune when your mother and father are some of the world's greatest archaeologists.

The Carnahans were rarely home and the three of them had gotten used to the nurses and governesses coming and going over the years.

Well, _coming_ and _going_ was a general term, a euphemism if you'd like. Most ran like the wind after a month or two, fed up with the pranks pulled on them by the Carnahan children.

No, no - it was solely for the fact they named her after a city. An ancient city, once a capitol of a great power, but a _city_ nonetheless.

It was also the birthplace of their mother, Zahra Carnahan and a place where she met their father, Henry. The lanky, disheveled archeologist charmed her amid the rising dust and ancient stones, with his dry British humour and profound interest in her discoveries.

It took two cups of Egyptian coffee, a heated debate over the economic impact of Hatsheput's reign for the working class Egyptians and a forgotten notebook for the two to fall head over heals for one another, and it took only six more months for Henry to propose. (_ but that's a story for another time_ )

The blood of the pharaohs of old flowed through her veins. It could be seen in Evelyn's cat-like hazel eyes and in Jonathan's lithe figure, in Alexandria's permanently tanned complexion.

The schoolchildren could really care less about the deeper meaning of her name, opting to pull her hair instead, pushing her round and calling her other, more _creative_ names.

It did not help that her nose was permanently stuck in every book she came across, or that she was a year younger than them, having been deemed by the headmistress as competent enough to grasp more advanced schoolwork.  
  


Now, she wore her name like a crown, proud of the heritage it carried. It was no wonder once she choose to take up History as her degree, with a particular focus on Ancient History and the rich, mysterious culture her mother hailed from.

Some days, that name felt like a duty, a pledge to her ancestors.

The almost perfect life of the Carnahan siblings came crashing down in the very same way as the plane flight that ended their parents life. A rift, caused mainly by the unspeakable grief, grew between them.

Evelyn and Jonathan packed their bags and disappeared to Egypt in search for digs, lost artifacts and glory. It left Alexandria all alone in the empty halls of their London home. She let the books swallow her grief, tackling scholars trice her age and moving upwards in the world of academics.

And then, on the day of her second graduation, a letter arrived, in a form of an invitation by the Cairo University in search of an expert in New Kingdom and Hellenic Egypt to assist on a new dig in Memphis.

Apparently, her sister had let slip the fact she was actively looking for field work for the summer, and they look liberty in offering her an accommodating stay and wages for her assistance.

Leaving behind the smog ridden streets of London, she boarded a ship for the land of her ancestors, and for the last few years home to her older siblings.

To Egypt.  
  
  


*:･ﾟ☥･ﾟ:*  
  
  


The red sands of Sahara shone brightly even in the stuffy evening, causing Alexandria to tighten the light veil around her head. Before her rose a magnificent structure that could only be the Cairo Museum of Antiquities.

A sweet smell she faintly remembered as the one elicited by the curator's aromatic candle wafted to her senses. For a moment she was eight again, playing chase and wrecking havoc around the museum while their parents attended an important seminar.

"Dr. Bey? Am I interrupting?"

She peered into the warm, inviting embrace of the office. Various knick-knacks littered the shelves, from time ridden books and scrolls to fragments of rocks with intricate patterns into them. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted a tall, ornate sculpture of a cat, emerald eyes flashing in the candlelight. Once a guardian of Pharaohs, now protected the museum's curator, Terence Bey.

The older man put his reading away, looking up at the young woman in his presence in utter surprise. "Goodness! Another Carnahan! I thought I'd seen enough of you for a lifetime!"

"Apparently not, sir. Pray tell where I could find my dear sister?"

Dr. Bey gave a long sigh, standing up and straightening his sharp suit. "That walking mess you call your sister is in the library, I'll take you."

The two walked through the long halls of the museum, Alex marveling at the exhibits along the way. Walls filled with illustrated papyrus protected by glass, golden masks embellished with jewel's that could feed the World for years. _And was that Bust of Akhenaten? _

There was a familiar giddy feeling in the pit of her stomach at the prospect of discovering parts of history yet unknown to her.

"How goes your studies, Miss Carnahan? It was.. ah, History at Oxford?

"And as of few weeks ago I graduated for the second time. It's now History and Archaeology, and I don't intend on stopping there." She supplied, flashing him a proud smile. Her insatiable thirst for knowledge would not let her rest for a moment, and she could not resist taking up another course she enjoyed immensely.

"Ah you might be interested in a dig down in The Valley of Kings, I've heard-" A colossal crash could be heard coming from the library, followed by continuous falling that could only be books hitting the floorboards. Dr Bey and Alex flew towards the entrance, unsure what to expect beyond that point.

Among the sea of books and scrolls sat a disheveled figure of Evelyn Carnahan; curly hair pinned to the top of her head and a dazed look in her eyes.

"Alexandria! You came!" Her sister shuffled to her feet, careful not to trip over the piles of ancient texts covering the floor.

Alex let an impish grin cover her face, stuffing her hands in the pockets of her pants. "You promised me a dig, didn't you?"

"If I had known that's all it took-"

"Look at this! Sons of the Messiah! Give me frogs, flies, locusts, anything but this! Compared to you, the other plagues were a joy!" If Dr Bey had any more hair on top of his head, he would be pulling it out in frustration. _"Carnahans!"_

"I'm sorry, it was an accident." Evelyn squirmed under his furious gaze, trying to fix the glasses edging towards the end of her nose.

"When Ramses destroyed Syria, it was an accident. You are a catastrophe! Why do I put up with you?" The curator boiled with rage, his nostrils flaring. To Alex, he looked like a constipated hippo, but she dared not say it aloud.

"You put up with me, because I can read and write ancient Egyptian, decipher hieroglyphs and hierarchic."

"Oh don't sell yourself short, you're also the only person within a thousand miles willing _and_ knowledgeable enough to properly code and catalogue this library." Alex said cheerily, making the curator grumble again. "Really you'd be lost without her."

"Who needs smart women? I put up with you because your mother and father were our finest patrons, Allah rest their souls. Now straighten up this mess!" Once Dr Bey was out of sight, only his continued grumbles still echoing through the galleries, Alex turned to her sister.

"Here let me help you." Alex reached forward, only to be enveloped in a bone crushing hug from Evelyn. For a woman of small stature, her sister managed to nearly suffocate her.

"Oh come here, you. I missed you sister."

They were quite the pair, the Carnahan sisters. Alex looked down at Evelyn's shorter form, garbed in a cream blouse disheveled from her travels, lazily tucked into a pair of white pants. A brown tweed blazer was thrown over the outfit, creating an elegantly messy look that had become her staple during her college years.

In contrast, Evelyn was a picture of an elegant librarian with her long brown skirt and conservative blouse.

It reflected their characters well enough; where Alex was reckless and spontaneous, Evie was strict and immaculate. Where the younger preferred to get her hands dirty, digging for artifacts until she dropped, the older cherished the peace of the libraries, order and organization.

"Missed you too Evie." She mumbled against the fabric of her blouse. Pulling away, they held each other at arms length.

"God. Five years. It's like it was yesterday." Evelyn gushed, sprouting things like _Oh, you've grown taller than me!_, _I do like that blouse and Have you been eating well back home? _like a speeding typewriter.

"Yeah, how did you manage five years in this sand and dust? I've been here for five hours and It's grating my nerves."

"It's worth it, you'll see. I have to take you out for some of their beautiful Egyptian coffee tomorrow morning, oh and you'll adore the sunset over the Nile - it's just like how mamma used to tell us." She paused, with great emotion gathering in her throat. "The Carnahan siblings back together."

"Now_ that _reminds me, where's that good for nothing brother of ours?"

Just as Evelyn was about to reply, a loud bang sounded form somewhere in the museum, startling the girls. 

"Did you hear that?" It was followed by light shuffling, strangely resembling feet skidding over the floor.

The sisters abandoned the mess in the library, slowly nearing the room labeled _Ramesseum_. Alex scoffed inwardly at the creative use of the great pharaoh's name.

"Hello? Mohammed? Ahmed? _Bob?_ " Evelyn called into the seemingly empty room, voice echoing among the immovable statues. Alex poked her in the ribs, shushing her effectively. To her older sister's bewilderment, she pulled a revolver from the inner pocket of her blazer and checked the bullet count in it.

"Is that a gun?! Why do you have a gun?!" She hissed, eyes flickering between her sister's amused expression and the gun itself.

"Well, situations like these, for instance."

Evelyn did not appreciate the sarcasm in her words. Not that she had any particular sense of humour, like Alex and Jonathan, she had always been far to serious and solemn for her age.

High above, the statues of Anubis and Osiris loomed threateningly over their petty appearances, daring to disturb their eternal rest.

They passed a tomb containing the mummy of a wealthy statesman, then the one belonging to a young prince. A sealed sarcophagus and then one decorated by lotus reliefs, then an open tomb - _an open tomb?_

The two women inched closer to the uncovered sarcophagus. The rumbling sound could be heard again, only this time coming from inside the tomb.

Alex and Evelyn exchanged worried glances before the former stepped closer, peering into the darkness of the unknown.

With a screech they jumped back as the body from the inside came alive, its rotting hands reaching forward as if to grab them. Alexandria pushed Evie behind her, cocking the gun and ready to shoot the undead monster.

Only the body was not alive and it was most certainly not hollering in the way that was so familiar to her.

"Oh you've gotta be shittin-" Alex placed the gun back inside her blazer, groaning in exasperation. Of course it was Jonathan, the _cheeky prick_.

"_YOU!_ You-" Evelyn fumed, very close to strangling their only brother.

_"Drunkard? Fool? Rat-bastard?_ Please call me something original." Jonathan Carnahan, their older brother and by far the worst archaeologist Egypt had ever seen, laughed from behind the four thousand years old mummy he held in front of him.

His eyes lit up once he spotted the new addition to their group. "Oh' littlest sister! You're here! Come to join my treasure hunting troupe?"

Alex chuckled at his antics, crossing her arms and leaning against the tomb. "The only treasure you find is at the bottom of your cups, Johnny."

"Have you no respect for the dead?" Evelyn gestured at the cigarette hanging out of the opening that was once the mummy's mouth.

  
"Right now, I only wish to join them." He grinned drunkenly, putting his arm over the mummified corpse. At that, Evelyn punched him straight to the chest.

"Come on get out of the bloody sarcophagus, you'll ruin the mummy. And then you'll be cursed by warts and fleas or something."

"Well I wish you'd do it sooner rather than later, before you ruin my career and Alex's career the way you've ruined yours."

  
"My dear, _sweet_, baby sisters, I'll have you know, that at this moment my career is on a high note." The sisters exchanged an amused look, both raising their dark eyebrows to stare at him.

Another groan was heard from Alex and Evelyn as he belched, quite loudly, before falling back down into the hole. 

"High note? Ha!" Jonathan crawled back out, positioning himself on the edge of the stone grave. The middle Carnahan continued her tirade. "For five years you've been scrounging around Egypt, and what have you to show for it? Nothing."

"Oh yes I do! I have something right here!" He busied himself, fishing a small ornate box out of his coat pocket. Eight sided and most likely made of some kind of metal, it gleamed under the lanterns above.

"It's like this every time."

"Oh no, not another worthless trinket, Jonathan. If I bring one more piece of junk to the Curator to try and sell for you..." She didn't even bother to finish her sentence, and she was beyond done with Jonathan embarrassing her in front of her boss.

Alex stretched out her hand, reaching for the mysterious artifact. "Come on give it to the expert. This is what I've studied for for the last decade."

Once the box was in her hands, she turned it around, marveling at the detailed engravings it possessed. Royal hieroglyphics at the bottom, hierarchic engravings on the sides.... it was unlike any object she had ever encountered.

"Where did you get this?" She wondered. It was very well preserved, almost too perfectly, for something that ought to be over three thousand years old.

Jonathan, noticing her sudden interest, gave her a mischievous smile. He did always know how to titillate her inner historian.

  
"On a dig, down in Thebes."

"Somehow I highly doubt that." Alex shook her head, still keeping the smile on her face. Evelyn poked at it over her shoulder, mumbling the translations as Alex turned the box over and over again. "Did you steal it from some poor sod?"

He pointedly ignored her inquiry, answering all her questions in the process. "My whole life I've never found anything, Alex, Evy. Tell me I've found something."

While Jonathan bounced anxiously on the balls of his feet, Alex twisted the slots around, making the hieroglyphics on the upper parts match the ones on the bottom. With a pop and a hiss, the box unfolded like a flower in her hands. Evelyn and Jonathan craned themselves trying to get a better look at what lay inside.

"Well, brother mine." She held up a piece of ancient parchment, letting the scribbles come to life under the candlelight. _A map, _Alex noticed giddily.

"It seems you found _something_, alright."  
  
  


*:･ﾟ☥･ﾟ:*  
  



	4. ii. a prospect of treasure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which, maybe, after so much time, Jonathan actually discovered something worthwhile

* * *

## 𝐢𝐢. 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞

* * *

Bringing the magnifying loupe closer to the detailing on the peculiar box Jonathan unearthed, Dr Bey emitted yet another grumble. The Carnahan trio seeked out Terence Bey, unable to decipher the true nature of the box.

Or, more accurately, Alex was sure they could reveal its secret by themselves but Evy wanted to hear the third opinion.

Evelyn, ever the impatient, hovered behind him, wringing her fingers in excitement. For three years she had been an archivist for the Cairo Museum - and she liked it, truly - but this mysterious find awakened a forgotten flame in her, an adventurer willing to go at great lenghts to unearth the true nature of the puzzle box.

"See the cartouche there," She leaned over Dr. Bey's shoulder, finger pointing towards the four hieroglyphs carved into the box. "it's the official royal seal of Seti the First, I'm sure of it."

Dr. Bey pursed his lips in annoyance, lowering the loupe. "Perhaps."

Jonathan bounced on the balls of his feet, already imagining the possibilities behind his find.

"Two questions." Jonathan held up his hand. "Who the hell is Seti the First? And was he rich?" Alexandria suppressed a groan - of course her brother would inquire about the prospect of treasure first.

Evelyn was quicker to respond. "He was the last Pharaoh of the Old Kingdom, said to be the wealthiest Pharaoh of them all."

Raising a finger Alex added. "Well actually we managed to confirm he was one of the first pharaohs of the New Kingdom and uh we might be able to trace his lineage back to Tut."

"You mean Tutankhamen? The pharaoh Dad found?" Evelyn gasped. It was the discovery that launched their late father into the stars, and most likely sealed their career paths. 

Jonathan made a move of shushing Evelyn, not interested in the academic details of his discovery. "Alright, good, that's good and splendid but let's get back to the rich part. I like this fellow, like him very much."

The curator picked it up once more, examining its both sides while Evelyn continued to buzz around.

"I've already dated it, this map is almost four thousand years old. And the hierarchic over here...." She inhaled deeply for the sake of dramatics. 

"It's Hamunaptra."

A flash of fear crossed the Curator's face, but it disappeared as quick as it appeared. He glanced between Evelyn and Alex**.**

"My dear girl, don't be ridiculous, we are scholars, _not_ treasure hunters. Hamunaptra is a myth." The curator stressed brusquely, trying to quickly disregard their theory.

"Every myth stems from truth!" Alex added quickly.

Jonathan's jaw dropped slightly open. "Are we talking about _the Hamunaptra_?"  
  


Evelyn nodded excitedly. "Yes. The City of The Dead. Where the early Pharaohs were said to have hidden the wealth of Egypt."

"Right, right, in a big underground treasure chamber. Everybody knows the story. The entire necropolis was rigged to sink into the sand. On Pharaoh's command, a flick of the switch! And the whole place could disappear beneath the dunes."

Evelyn smiled at her brother in confirmation. What a tale it was, of Hamunaptra - when she was a child it was one of her favourite Egyptian legends. Later it turned into a burning desire to unravel the truth behind the folk tale. "All we know is that the city mysteriously vanished around 2,134B.C."

Dr Bey held the map closer to the burning candle on his desk, trying to look at the hieroglyphics more closely. "As the Americans would say: it's all fairy tales and hokum- "

To the sheer horror of the Carnahan siblings, the ancient papyrus caught fire, the dry map quickly disappearing into ash. The old man let out a simple _oh_, as if he hadn't just ruined a three thousand year old map of unknown worth.

Not missing a beat, Jonathan fell to his knees to try to put out the flaming piece of paper and salvage whatever remained of it.

"You burned it! You burned off the part with the lost city!" Jonathan whined, holding up a mear third of the original map.

The curator shrugged half-heartedly, returning to the papers at his desk. "It's for the best, I'm sure. Many men have wasted their lives in the foolish pursuit of Hamunaptra, no one has ever found it, most have never returned."

Jonathans face crumbled as he took the remains of his map into his hands. "You killed my map."

Doctor Bey waved them off. "I'm sure it was a fake, anyway, I'm surprised at you, Miss Carnahan, to be so fooled."

He made a move to reach for the puzzle box that still remained on the desk but Evelyn quickly snatched it off, giving the man a very angry, suspicious look.

Moments later Alex and Evelyn strode out of the museum furiously, Jonathan following short behind.

Alex let out a scoff of irritation, the three trailing down the road and into the city centre. "How do you stand the gall of that man!? He knows something we don't, I swear."

"Tomorrow morning I'll take you to the place where I ah, found the box, alright?" Jonathan told them, a sense of reluctance in his voice.

"I anticipate it with trepidation, really." The youngest Carnahan replied drily. 

"Come on, let's have diner the three of us." Evelyn tried to keep the morale up. She turned to her sister. "And then you will tell me all about your research!"

"Ah shit, can I be excused from your scholastic talks?" Their brother groaned, making dramatic motions with his arms.

"Jonathan! Don't be crude!" Evelyn swatted away his arm that he ever so gracefully threw over their shoulders. All her primness aside, she still had a small smile on her face.

"Sorry, ah shit _may_ I be excused from your scholastic talks?" 

* * *

  
  


Early morning in Cairo was no less hot than midday swelter, Alex noted, her wide brimmed hat providing little to no shelter from the glaring sun. "You told us you found it on a dig down in Thebes!"

She kept her sigh of irritation to herself - Evelyn's only fault was always assuming the best out of people. Alex learned her lesson with their brother.

"Jesus, Evie, did you really think he was telling the truth?" She hooked one arm through Evelyn's, tugging her along and into the prison."I was honestly expecting something worse."

"I was mistaken." Jonathan pipped up, looking around the Cairo prison in a mixture of curiosity and disgust. It was quite a wonder he never ended up here in the last few years.

"You lied to us!"

Jonathan threw his arms up in exasperation. "I lie to everybody, what makes you two so special?"

Her older sister scoffed in bewilderment. "We are your sisters."

"And that's turning into _unfortunately_ your sisters." Alex butted in. Jonathan pulled Evelyn aside, whispering something in her ear. Before he could shush her properly she squeeked indignantly, eyes widening in shock.

"You stole it from a drunk in a local Casbah?!" Her mouth was wide open.

"Picked his pocket actually. She taught me that." He winked and pointed at Alex cheekily.

"I did, didn't I.." Alex sighed but not before lightly punching him on the arm. The two of them were relentless mischief makers, which most often resulted in an angry Evelyn.

"And what is he in prison for?" The older sister turned to the prison warden as they walked across the grounds. It had surprisingly gotten hotter and Alex had to use her hat as a makeshift fan to make it more bearable.

"I didn't know so when I heard you were coming I asked him myself." Said the warden, letting the ladies pass first towards the cell.

"And what did he say?" Evelyn wondered, all three of them genuinely interested.

"He said he was looking for a good time."

The guards dragged out a young man in chains, pushing him roughly on the ground. The Carnahan trio could not help but flinch at the way they handled him, as if he were some kind of a wild animal.

"This is the man? But he's just a filthy criminal." Evelyn exclaimed insensitively making Alex poke her with her elbow. The man was a criminal, yes, but no-one deserved to be called names, especially if they were kept in such poor conditions.

_A good looking one, underneath all that grime. _His hair was long and unkept - a result of captivity - and he sported a rough beard on his face. And yet, all the dirt and dust made him look manly - and quite dangerous.

"Not snobbish at all."

The criminal's eyes trailed up and down the two sisters. "So who're the broads?"

"My sisters actually." Jonathan tried to defend them feebly, awkwardly crossing his arms.

Rage flashed within her, and Alex was almost about to roll up the sleeves of her cream shirt. "I'll show you who's a broad-"

Evelyn slapped her arm with more force than necessary. "Alex for Christ's sake! We've found your puzzle box and we've come to ask you about it."

"What she means to say it ; we know it's supposed to lead to Hamunaptra, right? Is that where you found it?" Alexandria kept the questions direct, without beating around the bush.

A bit taken aback by her harsh questioning, mostly because of her gentle appearance, the man nodded. "Yes, that's where I found it. I was there."

Jonathan pushed himself in front of the two. "How do we know that's not a load of pig swallow?"

"Hey do I know you?" A look of recognition suddenly passed over the mans face and he made a quick work of throwing a punch right at Jonathans face.

Alex barely flinched - one part of her already expecting the possibility of this happening - while Evy crouched down to where their brother laid sprawled on the ground.

"I just decked your brother." The stranger raised an eyebrow in question, obviously expecting a much different reaction.

The blonde simply shrugged. "He deserved it. And more." Then she turned more serious, returning to the matter at hand. "You swear you were there."

"I was there alright. Seti's place, The City of the Dead."

"What did you see? What did you find?" The questions spilled out of her mouth like waterworks, mind buzzing with endless possibilities.

"I saw death, I found sand." He was playing with her, she was quite aware.

She was not about to back down so easily, pressing even further. "Tell me where it is, and I might just help you get out of this shithole." That made him stand up a bit straighter.

"You want to know ?" He questioned, eyes wide. Alex threw a look behind her shoulder, noticing the warden coming over to where they stood. She nodded firmly, urging him to tell.

"Yes." She inched forward, lowering her sunhat.

The man made a motion for her to come even closer. His hesitance was slowly getting on her nerves. "Really want to know?"

"Yes, you bloody-" She was unable to finish her sentence as the stranger pressed his lips against hers, completely cutting off her trail of thoughts. They were only broken apart once the guards grabbed him, dragging him violently out of the cell.

Struggling in their grip, the handsome criminal called out to her. "Then get me the hell out of here!"

A dose of panic ran through Alexandria as she turned to the warden. "Where are they taking him?"

"To be hanged."

Both sister's head snapped in his direction their eyes almost bugging out of their head. "_What?!_"

"Apparently he had a very good time."  
  
  
  
  


* * *


	5. iii. off to the unknown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which futures hang on the end of a rope, quite literally

* * *

**THE STALE, WARM AIR OF **Cairo prison did little to calm Alexandria's nerves as the Carnahan siblings followed the prison warden deeper into the yard and onto the stalls overlooking the dreaded wooden post.

She had never seen a man die, and quite frankly, she hoped today would not be that day either.

The guards mustered the rest of the prisoners behind the fence to watch justice being delivered to the American prisoner they met only minutes before, like a flock of sheep on a gunpoint. 

Hundreds of filthy prisoners stared down, cheering and spitting as the hangman's noose was draped over O'Connell's head and cinched tight around his neck. Every gust of sound continued to turn Alex's stomach.

_Feral_ and _wild_, those were the only words with which she could describe the morbid ecstasy in which the prisoners called for the demise of one of their fellow inmates. Alex never abhorred the human nature as in that moment.

The sisters followed the warden onto a balcony above the gallows, ignoring the preying eyes watching their every move. Suddenly, the unpleasant man stopped and turned around, screwing his face in a grimace.

"No women allowed," the warden crossed his arms, hoping to get rid of the two. Though they were beautiful to look at, the women proved to be a nuisance and far too nosy for his taste.

They rolled their eyes almost in unison, pushing past the warden with determination. "We are English women."

Though confused and annoyed, the warden shrugged in exasperation, sitting down next to them.

"How about we make a deal? I will give you one hundred pounds to spare his life," Evelyn offered, glancing ever so slightly at the commotion in the lower parts of the arena. They were _this_ close to a great breakthrough and she'd be damned if she'd allow anything, even a death sentence, stand in her way. 

The Egyptian simply snorted, dismissing her offer with a wave of hand. "I would pay one hundred pounds just to see him hang,"

"Two hundred pounds," the librarian pressed on. _What was the cost of human life? _It seemed the things that mattered the most held the least value in the eyes of people.

Alex craned her neck, looking down into the pit. The hangman was tying a noose around O'Connells neck, but the American stood still. She watched as his eyes scanned the faces in the crowd before they finally landed on her own. _I will not let you die today,_ she wanted to tell him, and all her determination and hope she tried to pour in that look, cut short by the warden's command.

"Proceed!" The vile man waved his hand to his hangman, sealing the American's fate.

"Three hundred pounds!" Alexandria snapped back into reality, almost chuckling painfully as the hangman turned to the condemned with one last question.

"Any last requests, pig?" he asked O'Connell, who turned to him with a strained smile on his face.

"Yeah, I'd like ya to let me go."

The Warden must have sensed the desperation in their voices and the indescribable urgency with which the women tried to free O'Connell. Taking a chance, he set one of his greasy, lewd hands on Evelyn's pant covered leg.

"And what else? I'm a very lonely man," he leered, having signalled the guards to stop until he got the answer he sought. Alexandria's hand was quick to slap Warden's lecherous one off Evelyn's leg.

She glowered over him, clutching the back of his chair in a threatening manner. "A bullet through your skull if you touch her again," the sound of laughter coming from the prisoners watching the spectacle turned his smirk into a thundering sneer.

That was enough for the man to lower his hand in one swift motion, making the final judgement upon the existence of one Rick O'Connell. A strangled scream lodged in the women's throat as the hangman pulled down the daunting leveller only for O'Connell to lose the ground beneath his feet. However, moments later they realised they did not hear the sickening _crack_ that was bound to follow.

"His neck did not break! Good! Now we watch him strangle to death," the Warden announced in glee, throwing a spiteful look over his shoulder.

The sisters found each other's eye as the roaring of the crowd grew louder, Alex silently agreeing at the decision Evy had set in her look. It was risky, almost insane, but at that point they had nothing to lose.

"He knows the location to Hamunaptra," her sister exclaimed in one last, desperate attempt. Her eyes reluctantly found Alexandria's, but her younger sister understood — it was the only way to save the man's life.

He spun around to face her, glaring accusingly. "You lie!"

"I would never!"

"Truly, she doesn't know how," Alex added drily. It was one of Evelyn's worse sides, the inability to hide something, and something that brought her a lot of trouble with her parents.

"Are you saying this filthy godless son of a pig knows where to find The City Of The Dead? Truly?" His suspicious eyes flittered between the two Englishwomen, eager to find some falsehood in their words so he could be rid of both them and the insufferable American wretch.****

"Yes, and if you cut him down, we will give you ten percent."

"Fifty percent!" Evelyn and the Warden continued to bicker over the percentage of the possible spoils as the time ticked ominously. Quite literally with his life hanging on a rope, O'Connell gagged and rasped, his face showcasing the many shades of purple.

"Twenty-five percent, and not one single farthing more," Alex demanded, slamming her hand on the armrest and ending the debate for the sake of the man hanging on for his bare life.

A scimitar slashed the air and never in her life had Alex breathed more freely, as if a nose had been tied around her own neck.  
  


* * *

  
  


** CANDLE LIGHT FLICKERED **across the Curator's face, its fluttering dance mirroring the way icy grip of guilt stretched over his body. As a part of the highest circle of the sacred brotherhood, the decision upon the fate of the Carnahan children rested on his shoulders.

"She must die," he concluded, though he felt no joy in that decision. "_They_ must die."

Reluctant to look up to his conspirators, the three _Medjai_, guardians of ancient legacy upon their shoulders, Terence Bey tried to justify those words to himself. Was it a sin to send a group of people to die if it meant the entire country would live?

"They are like all the others. They will die in the desert," said the commander, the eerie flicker of light reflecting off the metal hook that replaced his hand.

"No! They have seen too much. They know too much," the curator recalled the little box that he held only hours ago. Such a little thing capable of bringing on immeasurable amounts of disaster. "Not only does she have a map, but she has the key."

"The key?" a rush of dread wormed its way into the room. One of the Medjai let his hand run over his face and the blue marks intricately painted onto it.

"The Gods will not look lightly upon the death of the High Priestess. We don't know who would succeed her, either," he tried to reason, but Dr. Bey was unyielding.

"No one has ever had so much, been so close. We must stop her, or it will be the end of us all," it was decided and thus, the fate of the expedition was tragicaly sealed. The _Medjai_ were known for their efficiency, and it was entirely sure the Carnahans would not live to see Hamunaptra.

"Then we will kill her, we will kill her and all those with her," the old commander agreed. "Burn the map and retrieve the key."

"Good. I have contacted the University, they will allow the Priestess to leave for the expedition," he offered grimly, allowing another chill to pass through his bones. "A tragic loss for the academic community, but for the greater good of the world."

"It will be done. But what of the American expedition? They leave tomorrow as well."

"Forget the bumbling Americans, they will be like all the others. Without the map to guide them, how can they possibly find Hamunaptra?"

On the other side of Cairo, far from Terence Bey's office, Evelyn and Alex slept soundly, side by side, their hearts set on the biggest adventure in their lives waiting just around the corner.   
  


* * *

  
  
  


** THE RUSH OF GIZA'S PORT** would be tremendously hard to explain to a person that never lived to see it; the cacophony of the sailors and the fisherman started even before the symbol of Amon-Raa emerged from the East, mixing with the traders putting up their colourful tents filled with rich silks and barrels of exotic spices perched in front.

It seemed as if thousands of cultures melted together into one under the red melting sun glaring down on the dry sands and stones of the port; black heads and red heads, the ones covered in feathers and the ones sporting a fashionable silk turban — they all crowded around the stalls or boats in anticipation, bidding for the newest tapestries and rolls of fabric, even livestock and furniture.

There, next to the rampart that led up aboard one of the elegantly carved passenger barges stood Evelyn and Jonathan Carnahan, both dressed head to toe in elegant traveling garb that made them stand out in their usual British fashion.

Evelyn sighed impatiently, throwing a look over Jonathan's head and admiring the golden peaks of the pyramids winking in the horizon. "Do you really think he'll show up?"

"Undoubtedly, I know the breed," Jonathan declared grandly, and Evelyn rolled her eyes; of course he knew the _breed_, a scruffy scoundrel is exactly the kind with which he'd start a brawl with. "He may be a cowboy, but his word is his word."

"Personally, I think he's filthy, rude and a complete scoundrel. I don't like him one bit," she brushed him off, adjusting the wide black hat perched on her head. Alex, on the other hand, was a whole another story. Oh, Evelyn was not blind, she had seen they way her sister dressed up that very morning, taking her time to choose the fine, embroidered shirt to match her pants, quite unlike her typical haphazard way of dressing under five minutes. Dear Lord, her sister was growing up.

"Anyone I know?"

It was safe to say the siblings were more than impressed by the figure that joined them, swaggering up casually with a leather duffle bag slung over his shoulder. The O'Connell they met only yesterday was nowhere to be seen, instead replaced by a clean shaved, polished gentleman in a fresh set of traveling clothes.

Quickly recovering from the obvious gaping, Evelyn gave a slight wave to the newcomer. "Oh...um, hello."

Jonathan, on the other hand, was quick to grab their tour guides hand, shaking it vigorously. "Smashing day for the start of an adventure, eh, O'Connell?" The American only gave him a tense smile, immediately checking on his wallet once Jonathan let him go.

"Yeah, sure, smashing," he agreed.

"Don't you dare forget me here!"

From one of the rare cars that could be seen in the port emerged Alexandria, tugging along two leather suitcases and simultaneously trying to keep her wide brimmed hat stay put on her head.

"Alex! All done with the University?" Evelyn grinned, her heart suddenly filled with a pleasant sense of contentment she hadn't felt in years. She promised her sister an eventful summer, filled with digs just as they used to do it when they were young and truly, it couldn't have started off better.

"The rector was kind enough to postpone my lecture in favour of this escapade of ours," the brunette smiled, kissing her sister's cheek in greeting.

She was not about to tell them how weird her meeting with the rector that morning had been; she hardly knew the man but the short, bearded Egyptian had tears in his eyes when he closed the doors of his office.

The young scholar set her luggage firmly on the ground, facing the the newest addition to their team with a determined huff and a pointed stare.

"Now, Mister O'Connell, can you look me in the eye, and guarantee me this is not some sort of hokum? Because if it is, I'm warning you -"

Not entirely unpleasantly surprised the American decided to step closer and invade her personal space, Alex held her ground firmly, even crossing her arms across her chest. The unnerving closeness allowed her to notice the drastic change of appearance he went through; the lack of the scruffy beard that once covered his dirty face, the soft linen shirt that hugged the firm muscles of the man's arms almost dangerously.

It was hard not to remember the fierce, desperate kiss of a condemned man they shared only yesterday.

"All I can tell you, sweetheart, is that my Colonel found that map in an ancient fortress, and the whole damn garrison believed in it so much, that without orders, we marched halfway across Libya and into Egypt to find that city. Like I told ya, all I saw was sand. Everybody else was wiped out by Tuareg warriors," a firm, pointed pause rung between them while they stubbornly retained the eye contact. The moment was broken by O'Connell bending down and taking their luggage.

"I'll take your bags."

It took her a moment to blink and snap back from his words, patronising and cocky, before their youngest sibling was hot on O'Connell's heels, storming up the wooden plank and onto the passenger barge.

"Who are you calling a sweetheart?" She called angrily, trying to catch up with the insufferable man carrying her suitcases. "O'Connell!"

With a slight look of horror across his face, Jonathan turned to his other sister. "It's like there's two of them."

"If I survive this trip with the three of you, do please erect an obelisk in honour of my patience," Evelyn grumbled half-heartedly, making her older brother grin and shake his head.

"Yes, yes, you're right, filthy, rude, a complete scoundrel, nothing to like there at all."

"Well, Alex and I obviously have a very different taste in men. I would never, _ever_ look at some ragged, camel-riding, shady man, I can guarantee to you," Evelyn turned her nose up, throwing her brother a dirty look. It earned her only a grin and a knowing wink.

As if the day couldn't start off in a more unusual way, the siblings were stunned once the prison warden brushed past them, clad in a ragged, adventuring attire. They were almost entirely sure they struck up a very different deal with the man — they's go to Hamunaptra on their own and then share the profits of the excavation once the dig was over. 

"A bright good morning to all," he greeted, far too cheery for their likes.

"What are you doing here?"

"I have come to protect my investment, thank you very much," mildly insulted at the question, he turned his nose up and proceeded to walk up the plank as their sister and the American did only moments ago.

With one last miserable look shared between Evelyn and Jonathan they both silently agreed to throw the despicable man over the board if he only dared to interfere with the dig.   
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Make sure you leave some feedback, I love hearing your thoughts. Jana x


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